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“Jesus Christ, what is this?” I shouted, my heart banging hard in my chest. Adrenaline coursed through my body, which made me shake while I checked her out and tried to decide if she posed me a threat.
“Who in the fuck are you?” she challenged, her voice indignant, like she was the one who’d had every right to lie in our bed.
Jamie’s advice about the women who plagued him immediately came to mind. From my observation of the situation, I knew she was one of the ‘flakes’ — those fans that took things to extremes and believed they knew him intimately, that Jamie had warned me about. This helped me in my judgement of how to deal with the crazy fan; I had to be cool but firm.
“Daisy,” I replied deadpan.
“Well Daisy, you can turn that arse of yours around and walk straight back out of that door, I. Was. Here. First.” Her bony finger punched each word home on the mattress underneath her.
I snickered, but fear prickled the hairs on my neck. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” I began sounding pleasant and mild-mannered, but confused. “You mean you were here first?”
Shoving the duvet down farther with her feet, she gesticulated with her hands to her whole naked body.
“Yes, I was here first and I’m just waiting for Jamie to come back,” she said, like Jamie had skipped the hotel room to find a packet of smokes. “I don’t know who you think you are, Daisy, but Jamie Fontaine’s mine.”
“He’s yours,” I scoffed and then cringed to myself, my jealousy rearing its head. “I know who I am, but as you know my name you have me at an advantage there.”
“Lottie… Lottie Bramwell, DistRoyed’s biggest fan,” she stated proudly, like giving herself a title laid claim to the band as her own.
Bending my head, I took a deep breath while I gathered my wits because I knew if a fan was crazy enough to sneak into Jamie’s room and strip naked; she wasn’t likely to be all that rational. I frowned and gave one sharp nod toward her.
“Can you cover yourself up? It’s difficult trying to converse when I’m staring at a naked stranger,” I admitted, my mind going ten to the dozen at how I could summon help. I pulled out my cell phone, and she immediately narrowed her eyes.
“I’m just texting my friend that I’ll be down in a minute,” I blurted, like I was conceding and had been willing to walk away.
Me: Jamie, there’s a fan in your bed at the hotel.
I glanced toward Lottie again and flashed her a nervous, friendly grin after I’d sent it.
Come on, come on. I thought, my cell phone burning a hole in my hand while I stood willing Jamie to see my message. Relief washed over me when he texted me back.
Jamie: I know, and I can’t wait to get back to her.
A growl grew in my throat, and I swallowed it back with his playful reply. He’d thought I had meant me.
Me: No. I’m fecking serious. There really is a FAN in your bed, a naked one! What did you call the crazy ones? Flakes?
I sent it off and got an instant replied.
Jamie: Fuck. Get out of there now and I’ll deal with it.
Chapter 7
As Jamie had already alerted me to expect the unexpected, I decided dealing with a fan was going to be more than a onetime occurrence, then I needed to learn to face their challenges head on. I’d taken conflict resolution courses in the past to deal with difficult customers, and I’d already dealt with one of Jamie’s mistakes when she’d turned up in my pub. Therefore, once I’d gotten over the initial shock of the girl, I decided a crazy stalker bitch was no match for the landlady in me.
“I’m sorry, Lottie, but Jamie isn’t here. He’s down at the venue. When he’s finished, we have plans to go out for dinner. I’m not sure if he’s coming back here, or he’s sending a car to collect me.” I shrugged. “Who knows, Jamie is quite unpredictable, we may not even come back here tonight.”
“We? Jamie and you?” she snorted. “Ha. That’s funny, clever, but funny,” she scoffed, stepping off the bed and planting her feet apart in a full-frontal stance. A twinge of jealousy irked me because her body looked perfect.
“Listen bitch, I was here first,” she warned.
Unperturbed by my presence and without an ounce of shame, she picked up a pair of white cotton pants, stepped into them and dragged them on. Lifting a DistRoyed branded T-shirt, she turned it the right way out and casually pulled it over her head. She stared at me again before she shoved her arms in the sleeves and fixed the hem into place.
“Yes, me and Jamie,” I stated with more confidence while I watched her dress. “I’ve been his girlfriend for almost a year.”
Lottie stood still, narrowed her eyes and surveyed me with contempt, but I witnessed the moment she conceded I might have been telling the truth. Deflated at that prospect, her shoulders slumped, and her posture sagged. The only thing I had in my favor at that point was my possession of the key to his suite in my hand.
“As you can see, he’s not here,” I reiterated again, holding my arms out to gesture his absence. “I’m sorry you’ve wasted your time coming here. How did you get in here, anyway?” I asked, growing more assertive.
